There's An App For That
by onlyonepage
Summary: Following the loss of his phone on a case Sherlock get's himself a new phone.
1. Chapter 1

**There's An App For That**

Sherlock unplugged the USB cable from his latest distraction. He flipped it over in his hand feeling its weight. It was heavier than the last. He put the offending item down onto the table and returned to his current experiment.

It chimed.

"Whose phone is that?" John looked up from his laptopat the foreign sound.

Sherlock didn't look up from his microscope as he replied, "Mine."

"But you don't own an iPhone," John was fairly certain of this fact having answered it for the consultant detective on many occasion. There was no answer from his flat mate. With a resigned sigh John set his laptop down and retrieved the phone. "It's Lestrade," this caught Sherlock's attention. He abandoned his experiment and took the phone.

The case Lestrade had was, in Sherlock's opinion, brilliant. "He's emailing the details," he announced.

"My laptop is in the second draw down," John called to his friend from the kitchen. The laptop had to be hidden from the consultant detective although he always found it and changed the password much to John's distain.

"It's in the third draw down," Sherlock retorted, "I don't need your laptop, John." He waved his new phone at John as he walked into the living room. The email had already arrived.

The case had them searching for a discarded syringe in a dilapidated garage on the East side of London. John complained that it was too dark to see anything. Bringing a torch would have been a good idea. Within seconds the garage had been lit up by Sherlock, "I have an app," he was smug that his phone could do something that John's couldn't.

Having located the syringe Sherlock headed for St. Bartholomew's sending John to talk to the suspect. The police weren't considering him, a teenager with an alibi, to be a suspect. Sherlock knew otherwise.

The suspect was making no sense; he barely spoke a word of English and instead babbled in Spanish. He kept repeating the same phrase over and over again and although John didn't speak a word of Spanish he was fairly certain the repeated phrase wasn't Spanish. Once outside the suspect's house John wasted no time pulling his phone out and texting Sherlock.

_Oameni morţi spune nu se afla, mean anything?_

John hoped the spelling was right. Several minutes passed. The army doctor wasn't expecting an instant reply. When Sherlock was at Bart's his phone wasn't often forgotten. He decided to head for home as he awaited a reply. Two streets from Baker Street John received a reply.

_Romanian. Dead men tell no lies- SH_

Baffled didn't even begin to describe how John felt. He was tempted to ask how Sherlock knew it was Romanian but was too close to home to risk getting involved again not when he stomach was grumbling.

_App- SH_

_Come to Bart's- SH_

John had jinxed his evening with thoughts of returning home for dinner. Ignoring the part of him that said to ignore the texts John instructed the taxi driver to turn around and head for Bart's. His hunger could wait with the prospect of pursuing danger.

With the case solved John and Sherlock returned to Baker Street tired and hungry. Or at least John was. "Chinese, John?" Sherlock was still on a high following his impressive intellectual display in Lestrade's office upon the solving of the case.

"God yes," John collapsed into his chair with exhaustion leaving Sherlock to hunt out a menu from the kitchen. It went quiet. Far too quiet considering the enigmatic consultant detective was supposed to be ordering Chinese food. It was far too trivial a matter for him to get on with in good grace. "Are you going to order it or wait for me to?" John shouted to his friend.

Sherlock stuck his head out into the living room, "already ordered. I have an app for that."

John blinked in disbelief. "You didn't ask what I wanted."

"Sweet and chicken Cantonese style. Am I wrong?" Sherlock looked quite satisfied with himself.

With their plates clear of food John suggested putting on the evening news. As John searched for the remote underneath a pile of old newspapers Sherlock took out his phone. "Somali pirates hijacked a tourist boat. Scientist in Indonesia have found a new species of frog. Head of the department for education has been having an affair with the transport secretary. Nuclear plant proposed for South East coast. England squad has been chosen," Sherlock scanned through his news app.

"Well at least let me watch the weather," John grumbled and flicked on the television using the buttons on the side. Finding the remote could wait unless Sherlock found an app for that in the meantime.

Sherlock breathed in sharply, glanced at John and then his phone, "Tomorrow will be 18 degrees, cloudy with sunny intervals" He held his phone up for John to see, "Met office app."

When John let exhaustion win he left Sherlock concentrating on his experiment in the kitchen. Whatever had been growing in a petri dish in the fridge was now being scrutinised under the ever observing eyes of Sherlock Holmes and his microscope. "What's that?" John asked as he got himself a glass of water to take to bed.

"Brochothrix thermosphacta," Sherlock identified for him. "Common meat spoilage bacterium."

In his tiredness John let sarcasm take over, "How did you identify that? You have an app for that too?"

"No, John, don't be stupid."

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**Just something that popped into my head. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**All Singing All Dancing**

Sherlock leapt over the railway line as they chased down the tall figure dressed all in black. If all went to plan Lestrade would be waiting with a team of people to apprehend the suspect at the train shed just ahead. Things hadn't gone to plan. The suspect had been tipped off but Sherlock couldn't understand why or how. It was frustrating. He urged himself on determined to pin the man to the ground. John was tearing down the other side of the track as they pursued the suspect. They were running in completely the opposite direction.

The suspect tipped a stack of boxes over. Sherlock's long legs leapt over them but they posed more of a problem to John. The consultant detective tore ahead without a second thought to John. His mind was focused solely on the suspect that was disappearing from sight as they slipped through a hole in wire fencing and down through a small copse wood until finally the suspect was out of sight.

"He had help," he muttered to himself. If it had taken him till now to figure it out then Lestrade was still unaware. Sherlock took out his phone. The screen was black. "John!" he shouted and waited. No answer. "John!"

John stumbled to a stop hearing his name shouted. "John!"

"Jesus, Sherlock. I'm right here," he bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"I need your phone," Sherlock stated.

John straightened up, "you have a phone. An all singing all dancing one."

"It's not working," the consultant detective's reply was quiet.

His friend let out an exasperated sigh, "what did you do to it?" John wouldn't put it past Sherlock to have microwaved it or taken it apart in the aid of some ridiculous experiment that really wasn't important.

"_I_ didn't do anything," Sherlock bristled, "_its _battery died." John was fully aware that Sherlock had a fully charged phone that morning. He had unplugged it at the consultant detective's demand. "This phone is ridiculous."

John smiled in amusement and handed over his mobile, apparently all singing all dancing phones weren't all they were cracked up to be.

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**So I didn't plan on continuing this but I couldn't leave it alone. **

**Thanks to Arty Dian, ThisDayWillPass and Spark17 (really like your siri idea, might try and do something with that) for reviewing. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry, I don't know who that is.**

"Text John," Sherlock spoke to his phone.

**I'm sorry, I don't know who that is**.

The reply from the phone was not what Sherlock wanted. He slowly and carefully repeated his instructions, "Text John."

**I'm sorry, I don't understand. Can you repeat that?**

"Text. John."

**OK, I can send a text to Mrs Hudson for you…what would you like to say?**

"Why can't you text John? Anderson could manage it," Sherlock gave up on the 'intelligent personal assistant' function of Siri. He needed analysis of the chemical found on the skin of the victim of his latest case.

"A-are you talking to yourself?" Molly entered the lab carrying two steaming cups of coffee. She could hear his deep baritone voice from down the hallway. What she hadn't heard was the metallic voice belonging to Siri.

"No, to my phone," Sherlock barely raised his eyes as the coffee was set down next to him, "Why is it a smart phone if it's not smart?"

"Oh, I-I don't, its," Molly responded. She had no answer and Sherlock wasn't really listening. Accepting the situation she returned to her own work.

The computer beeped announcing the completion of its analysis.

"Molly, phone John. Tell him to meet me at St. Pancreas," he had the result he needed from the analysis now all he had to do was catch the culprit and for that he needed John. He left his untouched coffee and samples on the work bench for Molly to clear up.

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**Thanks for reading :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thorough If Nothing Else**

Sherlock paced frantically across the living room, "Bored?" John asked despite already knowing the answer. Sherlock grunted.

"I need a nice murder, a clever serial killer, errrgh," he dropped down into his chair with his foot tapping quickly on the floor. Sherlock finally noticed the paper in John's in hand, "What's that?"

"Mrs Hudson's electricity bill, she's being overcharged. I said I'd sort it for her," John answered.

"Dull."

John set down the phone bill. It was no use phoning the supplier now not when Sherlock was in one of those moods. "So you need a murder?" John humoured his friend. "Why not ask your new friend?" John nodded towards Sherlock's phone on the table. Sherlock was well aware that his friend was mocking him. He snatched up the phone determined to shut John up.

"Where could I hide a dead body?" he spoke to the phones 'intelligent personal assistant'.

**What sort of place are you looking for?**

**Funeral Services**

**Cremation Services**

**Dumps**

**Mortuaries**

**Reservoirs**

**Swamps**

**Mines**

**Metal Foundries**

"It's thorough if nothing else," John laughed not expecting the answer.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow. He tapped his finger on the microphone button, "There aren't any swamps in London."

**I don't see any swamps. Sorry about that. **

"Arguing with the phone," John shook his head and got to his feet, "I'll check the blog to get you something, anything." The ex-army doctor went to retrieve his laptop that was hidden in his room away from Sherlock who would know exactly where to find it.

"You argue with chip and pin machines!" Sherlock shouted after his friend

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**Wow! Thanks guys for all the alerts :)**


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